


After Action Rapport

by Todesengel



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magnificent Seven AU: ATF, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 18:05:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18555001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Todesengel/pseuds/Todesengel
Summary: Vin needs to come down after a canceled op. Fortunately Ezra knows exactly what to do.





	After Action Rapport

Vin's been sitting uncomfortably wedged into a junction on the crane's jib and fighting with his night vision goggles while watching Ezra fidget next to a small armory a thousand yards away for two hours before the call comes in that the op's been called off. It's the shitty end to a shitty day – hell, to a shitty three months – and he's still wound up and irritable by the time he finally makes it back down to the ground. He's not surprised to see that Buck's the only one still waiting around for him, and though he understands why the other fellas – why Ezra – have already left, that understanding does nothing to improve the sourness that's curling in his belly. 

"Well?" he asks snappishly as he walks towards Buck, the heavy case of his rifle banging into his back. "What happened?"

"Local LEOs tried to stop Decourt for a busted taillight and the asshole decided to run. They're taking him in to charge him for fucking speeding violations and reckless driving." Buck laughs and shakes his head. "Speeding tickets. Jesus Christ."

"Fuck." Vin clenches the strap of the rifle case; he wants to punch something and even though he knows it's his own irritation that's spurring him on, Buck's looking like an awful good target right now. There's an itchy restlessness that's curling under his skin, the kind that he knows can only be solved with a good fight or a good fuck; but neither of those options are on the table right now, so he rolls back his shoulders and forces those feelings down until he's only scowling at Buck and not snarling. "Didn't Chris coordinate this shit?"

"Someone didn't get the memo." Buck shrugs and runs his hand over his face. He looks about as tired as Vin feels, and maybe if Vin hadn't been freezing his ass off on that jib he'd feel a little less murderous and a little more sympathetic towards the exhaustion that's lining his friend's face. "Come on, Junior. Let's get back to the office. Those after action reports aren't going to write themselves."

"What action?" Vin grouses as he stows his rifle in the trunk of the nondescript motor pool car. He slams the trunk lid down as hard as he can and scowls at Buck. "This is bullshit."

"You just figuring this out now? Shit, kid, I thought you were the smart one here," Buck says with a sigh and an exaggeratedly mournful look at Vin; Vin scowls even further – he's in no mood to be jollied out of his roiling temper by Buck's weak attempts at humor. 

"Fuck off, Buck," Vin says as he throws himself into the passenger seat, looking pointedly at the wheel. "Just get in the damn car and drive."

*

Vin's mood is not at all improved by the shouting match he has with Chris over what constitutes an appropriate after action report. Considering the complete lack of action, Vin feels perfectly justified in summing up his contribution to the non-op with a half page rant on shitty equipment and the general failures and gross incompetence of the Denver police department, but apparently Travis has been given Chris flack about his team's lax attitude towards paperwork and calling the Bureau's equipment "cheaper than a free shit on a sidewalk" wasn't helping Chris's argument about the team's professionalism. And while Vin normally liked having a good row with Chris, he'd needed more than yelling to settle back into his skin; but apparently brawling with your subordinate was also unacceptably unprofessional, and Chris hadn't risen to any of Vin's baits. As it stands, the shouting just leaves him unfulfilled and wanting, and it's probably a good thing that the building is empty as he stomps and scowls his way down to the garage. He's just on the edge of making a bad decision and he knows it; he knows, too, just where he needs to go to find a bare knuckle fight, and what bars are still open right now where he can find the kind of man who won't ask question and will just fuck him on the wrong side of too rough.

But he's not quite ready for that, so he gets in his jeep and drives home.

He's not surprised to see Ezra sitting on his couch, looking about the place with his usual sneer of distaste, but he is glad and some of the angry tightness loosens its constricting grip around his chest. He feels himself relax in tiny margins, enough that he can close his door without slamming it and summon up something approaching a smile. 

"Thought you'd gone back undercover," he says. 

"Simmons reached out to me to let me know that the buy would have to be rescheduled. He was very careful to not share a single word about his employer's idiotic actions." Ezra shakes his head and leans back, spreading his arms along the back of Vin's couch. "I imagine that Decourt's operation is in too much of a panic to think about tailing me anywhere, let alone to this rat hole."

"You know I ain't got a single rat here," Vin says. He hangs up his keys and jacket and contemplates the way Ezra's sitting, legs spread and with that inviting arch to his eyebrow. He can just make out the shadow of an erection distorting the clean lines of Ezra's pants; more of the frustrated anger ebbs away at that sight, the tightness of his body melting into something lustful but no less violent in its urges. He swallows against the dryness of his mouth and lets a hand drift down to palm himself through his jeans. "'Cept for the one sitting on my couch."

Ezra barks out a laugh and slouches further, opening his legs even wider until his erection is no longer just a shadow but a prominent bulge straining against the gray wool. His eyebrow rises, no longer inviting but sardonic, as he says, "Is that any way to speak to a guest?"

"Since when've you ever been a guest?" Vin asks. He does not prowl to Ezra's side, but it's close enough, and there's something about the deeply unimpressed way that Ezra looks at him that makes his heart flip. He wants to fight Ezra – wants to push and be pushed back, to use pain to pull back from that place he goes to when he stares down the scope of a rifle and ground himself in solid flesh – but that's never been Ezra's thing. And while he wants it rough – he wants something that'll bruise, that'll leave him feeling fucked out for days – he wants Ezra more; he'll take whatever Ezra's going to give him tonight, and that thought bleeds even more of the anger away, leaving only the hunger behind.

"Then it's no way to speak to your friend," Ezra says as he brings his hands up to grasp Vin's hips as Vin straddles him. His lips are curled up in a smirk and Vin braces himself on Ezra's shoulders as he bends down and kisses that smirk away. 

"That what you are?" he murmurs against Ezra's lips. He grinds down grinning at the way Ezra's breath stutters and the twitch of his fingers as they tighten against Vin's hips. "My friend?"

"Of course," Ezra drawls in a low and uninterested voice into the space between them, as though his hips aren't twitching beneath Vin's thigh's and a flush isn't creeping up his neck. His hands slide up beneath Vin's shirt, warm and slightly rough; his thumbs rub small circles in the hollow beneath Vin's ribs and Vin arches into the touch. "What else could I be?"

"How about a fuck buddy?" Vin says. He grinds down again, pushing hard against the bulge of Ezra's cock. Ezra's breath hitches again and Vin grins. He threads his fingers through Ezra's hair, his heart racing at Ezra's growling displeasure. 

"I refuse to use such a vulgar term," Ezra says. He pinches the soft skin of Vin's side hard and Vin gasps at the sparking shock of pleasure that jolts through his body. His dick twitches painfully against the zipper of his jeans and he pushes into the discomfort. 

"Yeah?" Vin asks, a little breathy, "and what would you call me?"

"My associate," Ezra says as his hands move further up Vin's body, rucking up Vin's shirt; Vin gets the hint and grabs the hem to pull it off himself, exposing the entire expanse of his chest to Ezra's wandering hands. "My beneficial friend. My paramour, if you must insist."

"Ain't that a band?" Vin says, smirking, and he's rewarded with a harsh flick of one of his nipples. "Oh, fuck, do that again."

"No," Ezra says, placing a hand on Vin's chest and pushing him firmly away. Vin looks at him in annoyance, his hips still working in small circles as he humps against Ezra. "I refuse to ruin my pants dry humping on your godforsaken couch."

Vin sighs, aggrieved, but stops moving. His cock throbs painfully and he's very much inclined to keep Ezra pinned beneath him while he gets off. But there's a look in Ezra's eyes that he recognizes from that time after they shut down a particularly nasty group of doomsday preppers who thought their survival caches would be greatly enhanced with some stolen RPGs. As Vin remembered, that had been a very, very good night. 

"All right," he says. "So what are we doing instead?"

Ezra goes to stand but although he's strong he's not strong enough to lift the both of them, and so he sinks back into the couch and levels an annoyed look at Vin. "I was thinking we'd move into your bedroom, but it appears you're not all that interested in getting fucked."

"Who says we need to go to the bedroom?" Vin asks as he sheds his jeans without standing up. "Couch is right here."

"I am not going to put any part of my naked flesh on this couch. Either we do this like civilized gentlemen or I'm taking my leave," Ezra says, pushing at Vin's chest again, although his hand lingers a little too long for Vin to take his rejection at face value. 

"Betcha change your tune once I start sucking your dick," Vin says, reaching down to pull at the zipper of Ezra's fly. He grins at the throaty grunt Ezra makes as he fishes Ezra's straining cock free from his briefs, and he gives Ezra's cock a long, slow tug before sliding off of Ezra's thighs and onto his knees, the back of his ass brushing against his old coffee table. He shuffles forward until he's between Ezra's thighs, his hand working Ezra's cock in tight, corkscrewing strokes that make Ezra's thighs tremble and his eyes go dark with lust. He's achingly hard and the brush of the couch's nubby fabric against the sensitive skin of his cockhead is both almost too much and not enough sensation. 

"Vin," Ezra says in a long, sighing groan. He pushes at Vin's shoulder even as he lets his legs open wider to allow Vin easier access. Vin grins and leans forward. He runs his tongue up Ezra's shaft and circles the head of his cock before opening his mouth wide and swallowing Ezra down. Ezra's cock is hot and heavy on his tongue and Vin covers his teeth with his lips and lets them scrape along the veiny length of Ezra's shaft. Ezra gasps and twitches, his hips jerking forward and Vin almost gags as Ezra's cock hits the back of his throat. Vin whines and swallows hard, and he'd grin at the noises Ezra's making now if his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied. 

"Vin," Ezra groans again, his hands clutching at Vin's hair, pulling him closer, holding him in place. Vin eases back, a little, breathes through his nose, and takes his hand off his dick to feel around under the couch. He's pretty sure there's a bottle of lube down here somewhere and as much as he loves pulling those wet, destroyed noises out of Ezra's mouth he needs to be fucked. His hand closes around the bottle and the triumphant noise he makes as he pulls it free from the detritus makes Ezra's dick jerk and pulse on his tongue. Ezra's hands tighten on his head, fingers digging into the soft spots behind his skull with just enough pressure to be on the verge of pain, and Vin moans and humps against the couch. The tube of lube falls from his hand as he grabs his dick, squeezing the root tight to stop himself from coming. He can't breathe around Ezra's dick and he wants more, wants to bury his face against the soft wool covering Ezra's inner thighs, wants to rub his cheek against the fabric as Ezra fucks his face; that would be almost as good as having Ezra actually fuck him, he thinks. He shuffles closer until his chest is flush against the rough fabric of his couch and forces his throat to relax as he works his way down Ezra's cock. It's not the best angle and he has to pull off of Ezra's cock with a cough before he can take Ezra all the way down. He licks his lips and glances up at Ezra, who's looking down at him with hooded eyes and a high flush to his cheeks. He's still as neat as a pin except for the dark spots on his crotch where Vin's spit has soaked through the fabric and Vin has to drop his head to Ezra's thigh and pant for a bit to stop himself from climbing right back up onto Ezra's thighs and impaling himself on Ezra's cock. 

"Lube, lube. Need the goddamn lube," he growls, hands searching for the bottle.

"Bedroom," Ezra says. "We should—"

"Fuck that," Vin says, his questing hand finding the bottle. He opens it almost blindly and squeezes far too much onto his hands, but that doesn't matter because all that matters is getting himself loose enough for Ezra's cock. He groans as he reaches back and shoves two slick fingers into his ass and Ezra groans with him. 

"Fuck," Ezra says, choked off and annoyed as he surges off the couch, pushing Vin back until he's pressed hard against the edge of the coffee table; pushing harder until Vin lies flat on his back, open and completely exposed to Ezra's hot gaze. "Jesus fucking—I had a plan, Vin. I had a plan, I was going to open you up so slow, was going to make you fucking _beg_."

"Yeah?" Vin says as he spreads his legs and strokes his aching cock. "Like I'd beg."

"You would have," Ezra says, his fingers slick and thick as they press into Vin's ass; Vin bites back a groan and lifts his hips, trying to wiggle back onto Ezra's fingers. But Ezra's being frustratingly uncooperative and he pins Vin in place with a hand pressing hard into Vin's hip while he mouths at Vin's balls and works him open with the slow teasing of a sadist. 

"A whole goddamn plan," Ezra says into the soft skin of Vin's thigh before he bites down, sharp but shallow; Vin moans and snaps his hips into the frictionless air, his body thrumming with need. 

"Fuck your plan," Vin says, sitting up to grab Ezra and pull him closer until he can capture Ezra's mouth with a bruising kiss. He squirms on Ezra's fingers, pressing down on Ezra's hand until he bites out a curse against Vin's lips and pushes him away. "Just fuck me already."

"I—" Ezra says, and for a moment Vin thinks Ezra's going to pull away and force Vin to get up and walk to the bedroom with an ass wet with lube and a dick so hard he could hammer nails. This is very much something Vin would not like to do, so he clenches down hard on Ezra's fingers and swings one leg up to rest on Ezra's shoulder. Ezra's eyes grow darker and his cock twitches obscenely, spurting clear pre-come over Vin's balls.

"Fuck me," Vin says invitingly. 

"Fuck you," Ezra growls, but he gets with program and Vin barely has time to register that Ezra's taken his fingers out before Ezra's cock is sliding home, thick and hard and oh so welcome. 

"God yes," Vin sighs as he raises his hips to meet Ezra's thrust. 

"Insufferable man," Ezra mutters. He snaps his hips forward and Vin whines and arches up, trying to get more of Ezra's cock. 

"Yeah, make me suffer." Vin reaches down and grabs his cock, tugging loosely in time with Ezra's thrusts. He tries to pull Ezra down for another kiss, but the coffee table is too low to allow him to kiss Ezra and be fucked at the same time. "Shit."

"You're the one who couldn't wait," Ezra grunts. He grabs Vin's hips and lifts, pulling him up and Vin moans as Ezra's cock hits his prostate. Vin speeds up his hand, losing himself in the sensation of Ezra fucking him – the slap of skin against skin, the hard pressure of Ezra's grip, the drag of Ezra's cock as he pulls out and thrusts back in. He feels his orgasm build up quickly and he tightens his grip, chasing the sensation selfishly until he's bucking up into the slick pressure of his fist. 

"God, Vin," Ezra says, his voice thick, and he shifts forward until he can bite at Vin's collarbone. The pain is just enough to push him over the edge, and Vin comes with a hoarse grunt, his spunk spilling out hot and viscous across his hand. "Fuck, fuck."

"Yeah, come on, come on," Vin says, feeling generous now that he was grounded once more in his body. He drags his nails through Ezra's hair and clenches around Ezra's cock, even though it feels too large now. 

"Fuck," Ezra says in a drawn out sob as he thrusts again, then stills, dropping heavily onto Vin.

Vin sighs and strokes Ezra's hair, smoothing it down into a semblance of its normal neatness. He's feeling warm and pliant, even though his dick is uncomfortably trapped between their bodies. 

"Hey," he says, softly, tugging at Ezra's hair to make him look up from where he's panting into Vin's chest. "Thanks. I needed that."

Ezra smiles at him, a little smugly, and Vin rolls his eyes. "I'm pleased you recognize the glory and privilege of my cock."

"Ass," Vin says, pushing on Ezra's shoulder. "Was gonna offer to pay for your dry cleaning."

"My—" Ezra says, a furrow creasing his brow. He lifts himself off of Vin and stares down at his chest, where Vin's come is drying on Ezra's shirt. Ezra sighs and pulls out, rolling away until he can sit against Vin's couch and scowl at the stain. "This was silk."

"You coulda undressed," Vin says, unabashed. 

"When? While you were sucking my dick?" Ezra sighs and stands. He tucks his spent cock back into his briefs, then reaches down and pulls Vin to his feet. Vin rises willingly, expecting Ezra to collect his things and leave; he's not expecting Ezra tug him towards the bedroom. "This is why I had a plan, Vin."

"Sometimes you gotta improvise," Vin says, content to go wherever Ezra's leading him, particularly if it meant Ezra was going to stay the night. "No plan survives contact with the enemy."

"I'd rather we were friends," Ezra grouses as he strips out of his clothes and heads towards the bathroom.

"We are," Vin says, warm from the tips of his ears to the bottom of his feet by the affection filling him. He follows Ezra into his small bathroom and presses himself against Ezra's back, kissing him on the sharp corner of his jaw and smirking when he feels Ezra relax into him. "Don't mean we always gotta agree."

Ezra sighs and turns in Vin's loose grasp. "One day," he says, "I will show you the pleasure of delayed gratification."

"Sure," Vin says, feeling the echo of arousal stir sluggishly within him as he leans in to kiss Ezra soft and sweet. "Reckon I might even like that."


End file.
